


Her Naïve Heart

by articcat621



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Sound of Music, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 12:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12168741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/pseuds/articcat621
Summary: Sometimes our favourite things don't always turn out the way we want them to.





	Her Naïve Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Many thanks to my two betas, gaeilgerua and xxDustNight88, for their help. Anything you recognise, I obviously don’t own. I’m not making any money from the posting of this work. This was written for the Strictly Dramione's Movie Fest. My prompt was the Sound of Music with a Dramione twist... Enjoy. xx

Hermione bit her lip as she listened to her adopted father prattle on about the need for a nanny. While many of the Weasley children were still young, she and a few of them were above the need for help around the manor. 

When her father confided that he had hired a woman named Nymphadora to be their nanny, Hermione sighed. How many people would they need to scare off before Father understood that they didn’t want a nanny?

“I miss Mum,” little Ginny whispered, reaching up to take Hermione’s hand. She squeezed Ginny’s hand in return. “I do, too, Gin,” Hermione whispered in return.

Molly Weasley was a remarkable witch. She had taken both her and Harry in after they had been orphaned, even though she already had seven children of her own. She was incredibly strong-willed, never taking no for an answer. She was the only one who could get little Fred and George to behave. Tragedy had struck, as fate would deem it, when Mrs Weasley was diagnosed with dragon pox. 

It had been three years, but everyone missed their mother dearly. Hermione had been thirteen when her adopted mother passed, and to be honest, she was jealous of the little ones that didn’t remember her as clearly due to their age.

“Hermione, Harry, a moment please,” their father said after having dismissed the rest of the children.

“Yes, father?” Hermione asked, glancing at Harry from the corner of his eyes.

“Please try and make sure that Fred and George don’t cause any trouble with the new nanny,” Arthur warned.

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. The seven year olds were quite a handful, but it wasn’t them she was worried about. “It’s William and Charles that we need to keep an eye on. They were the two to send the last governess running.” The eleven and twelve year old were the most opposed to having a governess. 

“Just, watch them,” Arthur reiterated. “As you are both the oldest, I am trusting you with this job.”

“Of course, Father; we won’t let you down,” Harry said, giving a curt nod.

Hermione nodded as well, promising to try and keep an eye on her siblings. To be honest, though, she already felt bad for poor Nymphadora.

* * *

“I like that she can change her hair,” Percy announced a few days later while the other children were in bed.

Hermione nodded absentmindedly. “Yes, that is a rather gifted ability,” she admitted. “I’ll have to see if we have any books in our library about the subject.”

The ten year old smirked. “I already checked and we have two. I started one, and you can start the other.”

Out of all her siblings, Percy was the one most similar to her. They shared an intense love for knowledge and would often stay up late discussing the latest magical theories. 

“Okay, Hermione, what’s going on? You’re unusually quiet today,” Percy stated, sitting up in bed.

Hermione worried her lower lip. “I haven’t heard from Draco in some time,” she admitted quietly.

“What? No news from your secret boyfriend? How will you ever go on?” Percy teased with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, shut it,” Hermione said, throwing a pillow at him. “I tell you my secret, and you tease me?!”

Percy laughed. “You only told me because I caught you both in the garden once.”

Hermione blushed as she recalled that Percy did indeed stumble in upon her and Draco snogging in the garden. “Goodnight, you prat.”

“Goodnight, Hermione,” Percy said, returning his attention to his book.

* * *

Later that night, as Hermione was lying in bed, she heard something clink against her bedroom window. When she heard the same noise moments later, she finally got out of bed and walked towards the window. Opening it, she peered down into the darkness below.

“Pssst, Hermione!”

“Draco?” she called out into the darkness, her eyes lighting up in excitement at the sight of her boyfriend. “I’ll be right down! Meet me in the gazebo in the rose garden.”

Grabbing her wand and a sweater, Hermione cast a Disillusionment charm on herself and carefully made her way down the stairs to the back door. Luckily, she neither heard nor saw any sign of her father or Nymphadora. She slipped out the back door, quietly closing it behind her. She eagerly made her way towards the rose garden, practically running in her eagerness. 

As she neared the gazebo, Hermione removed the Disillusionment charm. “Draco!” she cried, running towards him. 

He caught her in his arms, hugging her tightly as he twirled her around. Draco laughed slightly, putting her back down on the ground. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping by now?” he teased.

Hermione flushed. “Probably, but don’t tell.” She giggled, feeling like an innocent school girl. “I missed you, Draco. Have you missed me?” Her gaze went to his lips, and she wanted nothing more than to press her own against them.

“Why, yes, I have,” Draco replied, his smile light. “I started nearly a hundred letters to mail to you, though, I never was bold enough to send them.”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh?” she teased. “And just what did those letters say?”

Draco cleared his throat, taking a seat on the bench inside the gazebo. “Well, I’d start with your name.”

“Go on.”

“Dear Hermione, I’d like to be able to tell you how I feel about you. Unfortunately, I am not bold enough to do so through a letter. Sincerely, Draco.”

Hermione laughed. “Just sincerely?”

“Cordially?”

“Just cordially?” Hermione teased with a small pout.

Draco let out a small laugh. “Affectionately.”

“That’s more like it,” Hermione said, taking a seat next to him on the gazebo. She leant her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, taking in the sweet smell of his cologne. “Will I see you again soon?”

“I haven’t even left yet,” Draco teased before frowning. “I don’t know.” He gently laced their fingers together. “Hermione, I… I’m worried about your father.”

Hermione looked at him in confusion. “My father? You don’t have to worry about him. He’s quite the talented wizard.”

“Well, then, I worry about you.”

Hermione gaze his hand a squeeze. “Why? As you can see, I’m perfectly fine. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“But you’re so young.”

She scowled. “You’re only a year older than me, Draco!”

“Seventeen going on eighteen is much better than sixteen going on seventeen,” Draco retorted with an arch of his brow.

Hermione looked at Draco, a small smile on her lips. “Well, if you know so much, Draco, then you should be looking out for me.”

Draco puffed up his chest slightly. He stood, pulling Hermione to her feet as well. “Very well, I suppose I am someone you can depend on.” He gently cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking it lightly. “You look beautiful tonight, Hermione.”

“You have to go, don’t you?” Hermione asked, her voice quiet. Though she loved to see Draco, their meetings were always too short for her liking. 

“I’m sorry,” Draco replied. “I’ll try to see you again soon. Until then, stay out of trouble.” He pressed a light kiss to her lips.

Hermione closed her eyes, savouring their kiss. She felt him pull away, and when she opened her eyes, he was gone. 

Knowing that it was going to storm soon, Hermione made her way back towards the manor.

* * *

“So, are you going to tell me what you were doing out there?” Nymphadora asked, her hands on her hips as she looked Hermione over.

“Are you going to tell my father?” Hermione asked, cursing that she forgot to cast her Disillusionment charm and that she got caught by her governess. 

“No, come along,” Nymphadora said, turning on her heel. “Let’s get you into some proper pyjamas before anyone notices you’re still dressed at this hour.”

The two of them walked in silence to Hermione’s room. Hermione felt incredibly guilty for sneaking out, but was thankful that Dora found her instead of her father.

“Now, go on in and get changed. I’ll be back in a few.” Nymphadora turned and headed down the hall.

Hermione entered her room and quickly changed into a nightgown. She was quietly brushing her hair when Dora knocked at the door. “Come in,” Hermione answered.

Nymphadora entered carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea. “This will help you sleep just right.”

“Lavender tea?” Hermione asked. She accepted a cup from Nymphadora and sniffed it. “Thank you.”

“The air was chilly tonight. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

Hermione glanced down at her mug, thankful for the warmth between her hands. “Thank you for not telling on me, Dora.”

Nymphadora smiled. “I was young myself once. Just be careful, alright, dear?”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you, Dora.”

“Goodnight, Hermione.” She patted Hermione on the shoulder before exiting with the tray and other mug of tea. 

After finishing her tea, Hermione slipped into bed, dreams of Draco filling her mind.

* * *

Time passed quickly, and unfortunately for Hermione, there was no sign of Draco. She spent her days with Dora and her siblings, leaning once more just how to be a child. She had forgotten what it felt like to roll down a grassy hill… To dip her feet in the lake… To climb to the top of the apple trees.

Dora had brought life back into their home. And somehow, Dora had also managed to bring back the life in her father’s eyes. Though Harry and Percy were the only other ones to realise it, their father was beginning to care for Dora. Hermione herself was very excited about the fact. She wanted to see her father happy again.

There was a knock on her door. “Hermione?” 

“Yes, Dora?” Hermione answered.

“Your father would like a word in his study,” Nymphadora said, giving Hermione a small smile.

“Oh, all right,” Hermione said, closing the book that she was currently reading. She stood, smoothed the front of her skirts and then headed towards the second floor, where her father’s study was located.

When Hermione arrived at his study, she glanced at the wooden doors nervously as she pondered just what he wanted to discuss with her. Knowing there was only one way to find out, Hermione knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside, smiling warmly at her adopted father. “You wanted to see me.”

“Ah, yes, come sit down, Hermione,” Arthur said, gesturing to the chair facing him. He smiled when Hermione did as she was told. “You know, I saw quite the peculiar sight yesterday.” 

“Oh, and what was that?” Hermione asked, truly curious. “Did you see the twins behaving?”

They both laughed. “No, though that would be quite the sight to see.” Arthur smiled. “What I did see yesterday was a young man throwing rocks at your window.”

Hermione’s cheeks reddened almost immediately. “You did?” she asked, heart racing.

Arthur laughed. “Needless to say, I gave the boy quite a fright. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Knowing that there was no use hiding it now, Hermione nodded. “His name is Draco, and I’m quite taken with him honestly.”

“And I assume he feels the same way?” Arthur pressed, carefully watching Hermione’s reaction.

She nodded. “Most certainly. I know we’re both young, but I feel like something real is there.” Before he could say anything else, Hermione decided that she would take the moment to turn the tables. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Father?”

Arthur’s cheeks matched his hair at that moment. “Er, I suppose, that is to say, Miss Dora and I have grown quite… Close.”

Hermione reached across the table and took his hand. “I’m happy for you both, Father, and I know the others will feel the same way.”

Arthur smiled. “That’s quite reassuring to hear. Come, it’s nearly time for dinner. Let’s meet the others down there, shall we?”

Hermione nodded, taking his arm. They headed down towards the dining area.

* * *

Dinner was nearly over when Hermione’s world came falling apart.

She had been poking at her chicken when there was a loud crash from the front hallway. By the time she stood, wand at the ready, they were surrounded. She gripped her wand tightly, assessing the situation.

“Mr Weasley, the Dark Lord has requested your presence,” one of the strangers spoke.

Hermione recognised the black outfits. These wizards were Death Eaters, supporters of the madman who was currently trying to take over Europe. 

“I’m afraid, Lestrange, that I am unable to meet that request at this time,” Arthur answered, his expression dark, wand raised.

“It’s no longer a request, Weasley, but a demand,” another person spoke, removing their mask.

“Malfoy, I should have known you were the one orchestrating this.”

Hermione felt like she was going to be sick. Malfoy? It couldn’t be her Draco. No… he wouldn’t support an organisation like this. There’s no possible way. 

“We wouldn’t want anything to happen to your family now, would we, Weasley?”

That voice… In her mind, she knew there was no denying it. “Draco,” she whispered. 

The rest of the Death Eaters removed their masks, and Hermione felt ill when she saw that Draco - her Draco! - was among them. 

“Draco, what are you doing?” she demanded angrily, ignoring the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes at his betrayal. 

“We’re here to take you in,” the older Malfoy stated plainly. “I suggest you all come willingly.”

“Leave the children,” Arthur said firmly. “I will come quietly, then.”

“That’s not our orders,” Draco said cooly. “They were to bring you all in, regardless of the method.”

Hermione gripped her wand tightly. A quick signal from her father told her exactly what she would need to do. Glancing at Harry and Nymphadora, she saw that they also tensed in preparation of what was to come.

“Lower your wand, Weasley,” the senior Malfoy ordered. “I won’t be asking again.”

“So be it,” Arthur stated before quickly throwing a curse at the elder Malfoy. 

Curses and hexes began flying throughout the room. A scream filled the air, and Hermione knew that she needed to act quickly. 

Moving towards Ginny, she was suddenly jerked backwards as someone grabbed her wand. 

“Don’t resist,” Draco whispered in her ear, pulling her against him. “You’ll only make it worse.”

Anger filling her, she quickly threw her head back, a satisfying crunch sounding out as her head made contact with his nose. Pulling from his grip, she turned, shouting, “Stupefy!” 

Draco’s body flew backwards to the floor.

“Ginny!” Hermione cried, looking around. Seeing her, Hermione dashed towards her, grabbing Ginny with one hand, and a nearby Percy with the other. She Disapparated them on the spot.

* * *

They landed in a tangled mess, Ginny wailing loudly. Hermione quickly stood up, checking Ginny for injuries. “Shhh, you’re okay,” she said when she realised they weren’t Splinched. “Percy?”

“I’m fine,” he answered curtly, his own wand raised as he looked around.

Hermione shivered, glancing around the snowy landscape. “I’m a bit more South than I intended us to be,” Hermione apologised. “The safehouse is further up the mountain.”

“Then let’s get going,” Percy said. 

Hermione picked Ginny up, swinging her onto her back before hiking through the snow upwards. She didn’t know what would happen next, as she could only hope that everyone else made it out alive. Her heart ached at knowing Draco hadn’t returned her affections as truthfully as she had hoped, but she pushed the ache from her mind.

She would find the safehouse, and keep her siblings safe. Only then, would she think about what was to come.


End file.
